Page 17 of Fumbling in the Dark

I take the fastest shower known to man, because the sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can fix the mess I’ve made. The need to make her understand why I didn’t tell her consumes me, and I know I won’t be able to rest until she’s at least heard me out.

Pulling my shirt on, I’m almost home free when I hear my name being called. “Mitchell.”

I look up and Coach Martin, the assistant coach for the football team, is looking at me knowingly. “Yes, Coach?”

“We need you to come in here for a moment. Coach Wilber wants a moment with you,” he says tilting his head, indicating I should follow him. A lump in my throat forms and I’m not sure what this could be about.

Putting the rest of my stuff away, I shove my wallet, phone, and keys into my pocket and quickly close up my locker. Then I make my way down the hallway toward the coaches’ offices. For some reason today, the hallway seems to have a darker feeling, and I swear I even hear doom music playing in the background.

When I reach the room, I walk in and my hands start sweating when I see both coaches, and the general manager sitting there with a stern look, whispering to each other. I just stand at the threshold, not sure what to say. But I don’t need to say anything, because Coach Wilber sees me and says, “Come on in, son. Have a seat.”

I take a first terrifying step into the room and silently take a seat on the couch. I try to rack my brain as to what could’ve happened to get called in like this. I mean, the season hasn’t even started yet.

Coach Wilber clears his throat and looks just as uncomfortable as I am. That can’t be good. “We called you in today because after the article we saw of you, we wanted to clear up some things,” he says.

“Okay,” I say warily.

“We pride ourselves on not having any of our players involved in any scandals, and though the article about you last night wasn’t a scandal, we want to make sure it stays that way,” the general manager says.

“I’m sorry. Did I give you an impression that I might cause scandals?”

“No. We just want to help you navigate this before it becomes too much,” Coach Wilber replies.

“Okay, because I can’t help what people write about me. But I can tell you that I’m not the type of person who goes out looking for anything. The girl I was with last night was a date. And I don’t think my dating life is really anyone’s business,” I explain to them hoping we can end this now.

“You’re right, it’s not. But we want to make sure that you don’t become a media circus. We are not hear to scold you, we are here to help,” Coach Martin says.

“Okay, well honestly there is nothing to tell. Kade set me up on a blind date just to get me out of the house. It turned out to be a great date,” I tell them.

Coach Martin lets out a sigh then says, “Fuck, I should’ve known Kade had a hand in this. Listen, be Kade’s friend but he loves to show off for the media. We have to have these talks with him once a week.”

“Just be on your best behavior and come to us if you have any issues,” Coach Wilber says as he cringes. You can tell that he doesn’t want to have these conversations. I wonder if this is something he does because of the general manager.

“Will do,” I say standing up from the couch. “May I go?”

“Yes. If you make headlines again, expect this again,” Coach Wilber says. “It’s team policy to have a ‘powwow’ with every unsavory one.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say then leave the room, heading out to my truck in the parking lot.

I jump into my truck but before I put it in drive, I pull out my phone and send Janae a text message.

Me: I’m sorry about everything. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow? I can explain then.

I sit and wait for a few minutes, but she never reads it. Taking a deep breath, I just hope that she’s at work and not ignoring me. With that, I put my truck in drive and head home, hoping tomorrow will be better.

Chapter thirteen

Janae

Iwalk into work pissed at finding out that Shane lied to me last night. Millie and Ed who are helping customers in the store, eye me as I walk to the back room. Throwing my bag under the table where we cut flowers, I slam myself down on the stool. I can’t believe I let him fool me like that. What could be his motive not to tell me? Why would I care if he played football?

The door opens and I know it’s Ed coming to check on me, but I ignore his presence. I’m not in the mood to deal with other people. Especially after fielding phone calls from everyone all morning. I looked like a complete fool too because I had no idea that Shane was a football player. And not just any football player either, the most sought-after tight end coming out of college this year.

Grabbing a pile of flowers that needed the stems trimmed, I start cutting them, trying to get my mind off of the whole ordeal. After a few trims, I hear Eddie say, “What did those flowers ever do to you?”

His words grab my attention and I look up at him, not understanding what he’s trying to say. Ed must see the confusion on my face because he nods his head toward the flowers in my hand. “You’re cutting them a little harshly. Did they yell at you or something?”

Oh, I get it, he’s trying to make a joke. “Ha ha, Ed. Very funny. But I’m not in a laughing mood,” I tell him.

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